The Rudolf Steiner Archive

48. Where and How Can You Find the Spirit?

[ 1 ] Humanity’s quest for and exploration of the spirit is ancient—as old as human thought, feeling, and perception themselves. But at various stages of human development, people have had to find a wide variety of answers to the great mysteries of existence, which are, in fact, the very mysteries of the spirit. In our time, what is called spiritual science—or, as has become customary, theosophy—seeks to provide an answer to these great enigmas of existence, and indeed, it seeks to provide an answer in a way that corresponds to the sensibilities and needs of present-day humanity.

[ 2 ] Humanity today wants to know; it wants to take in—through the intellect and through emotional understanding—that which is connected to the higher forms of existence, and it must be assumed from the outset that intuitions and beliefs concerning the spirit—or, as one might also say, concerning the supersensible world—will lose nothing when the clarity of knowledge is shed upon what humanity has to say regarding these questions.

[ 3 ] The fact that behind everything sensory, behind everything physical, there is something supersensory, something superphysical—this is, after all, denied today only by a small number of people. But when we approach these questions, what fills the human heart is not merely the acceptance or rejection of the spiritual, the supersensible; rather, the most diverse feelings intermingle with everything that comes into consideration—not only in the answers, but even in the questions themselves, the most diverse feelings intermingle: Above all, timidity and a tendency to doubt intermingle with everything that comes into consideration.

[ 4 ] There are many people who say: Certainly, one must assume that behind the world that appears to our eyes—the world we can perceive with our senses at all—there is another world that alone makes the meaning of this sensory world understandable to us. But we humans cannot penetrate this supersensible world through our own research, through our own science. — It is precisely here, in more recent times, that spiritual science or theosophy approaches humanity as a message, showing that not only is there a supersensible world behind the sensory one, but that human beings are also capable of penetrating this supersensible world through their own research. With this, ladies and gentlemen, we have drawn your attention to the question that will occupy us today: Where and how, in fact, does one find the spirit?

[ 5 ] Anyone who, from the outset, dogmatically doubts the possibility that human knowledge can ascend into the spiritual world cannot, in essence, properly raise this question at all. Theosophy or spiritual science does not seek to bring anything entirely new to humanity. Even if it were to claim otherwise, it would be casting a poor light on itself, for who would believe that truth and wisdom should have been waiting specifically for our present time to be recognized and explored? That is why spiritual science and theosophy show that throughout all ages of human spiritual development, in the most diverse forms, the one, eternal truth and wisdom have been sought after and, to a certain degree, attained by humankind; that it is only the sensations and feelings that change across the various eras—and therefore the ancient truth must approach humanity in ever-new forms.

[ 6 ] And so, in this spiritual or theosophical sense, let us approach the question—“Where and how does one find the Spirit?”—without much preparation. We need only point out that the search for the spirit depends on a person finding the right tool to be able to seek this spirit. You know, my esteemed audience, that in what is called external science—or the science of nature—there are tools and instruments through which the external mysteries of existence are gradually revealed to humanity. You know how human beings peer into the lives of the smallest living creatures through what is called a microscope; you know what wonders of space have been revealed to us by those instruments we call telescopes. These external instruments have indeed brought about something akin to external wonders in human knowledge for a long time. And you can also appreciate this when you reflect on how humanity is compelled to comprehend and grasp the external mysteries of nature through such tools. With regard to the spirit, however, there are no such external tools; there is only one tool—the one to which Goethe refers in the “Faust” poem, with which you are surely familiar, with the words:

Mysterious in Broad Daylight
Nature cannot be stripped of its veil,
And what it chooses not to reveal to your mind,
You cannot force it to reveal with levers and screws.

[ 7 ] And Goethe points out in this sentence that all those tools and instruments composed of external, sensory things—however useful they may be for unveiling the mysteries of the external world—cannot reveal the primordial mystery of existence, nor can they unravel the questions and enigmas concerning the spiritual. There is, however, one instrument; it just needs to be prepared. What is this instrument?

[ 8 ] This instrument, through which human beings can penetrate the spiritual world, is none other than the human being himself—not as he is in ordinary life, but as he can become when he applies the methods and means of esoteric science to himself. In this regard, esoteric science assumes that the magic word—which today stirs so many minds and souls in relation to external nature—is not taken entirely seriously or honestly. Today there is much talk of evolution; it is said that the highest of the sensory beings—humanity itself—has gradually evolved from imperfect states to its present level. People attempt, through the external natural sciences, to look back into the distant primeval times of humanity. It is said that in those distant primeval times, humanity was an imperfect being and developed little by little.

[ 9 ] Theosophy, or spiritual science—in the most comprehensive and therefore also the most honest sense of the word—sees in human beings not only the powers and abilities that are present in them today in their everyday lives, but also dormant abilities and powers that can be developed and drawn forth from the soul. And so it proceeds from the premise that the human soul need not remain as it is, but that it can be shaped, and that through this process the abilities and powers that initially lie dormant in the human soul in the ordinary sense can be drawn forth from that soul, and then, once they have been drawn forth, they enable the human being to see something entirely different in his surroundings, in his world—to perceive something entirely different from what he can recognize at all with his physical eyes or through his physical organs of perception. And so spiritual science speaks of a possible awakening of the human soul, of an awakening of the powers and abilities slumbering within it, through the human being’s application of the means we shall describe later. Through this, he comes to make within himself such an instrument for perceiving the spiritual world.

[ 10 ] A reawakening—what is that? Well, the best way to imagine what a reawakening—an unfolding of the abilities slumbering within the soul—is, is to first conjure up a picture in our minds. Just imagine, ladies and gentlemen, stepping into this hall—seeing the colors of the walls, the lights, perceiving the other objects—these roses here and everything around you that is perceptible, the sound that is discernible to the ears. We bring a man who was born blind into this hall. To this man, born blind, the colors and perceptions of light that are obvious to you are hidden. Let us suppose we were fortunate enough to perform surgery on this man, born blind, right here in this hall. Little by little, a whole new world would [reveal itself] to him. What he might previously have denied is now there for him.

[ 11 ] Perhaps, if he were a skeptic, an unbeliever, he might have said beforehand: “You tell me about colors; you tell me about lights. All around me is gloom, darkness.” “I don’t believe in that fantastical stuff about light and colors you’re telling me about.”—The moment his senses open up to him, at that very moment, the world he had previously considered fantastical is there. It is there in the very same space where, before, there was only darkness for him.

[ 12 ] Something similar happens to a person when he makes himself an instrument for perceiving a higher world. When they apply the methods to be discussed later to themselves, it is not sensory or physical organs of perception that are opened to them, but spiritual and soul-based ones; and what was always around them before—which they simply could not perceive—becomes perceptible to them. What Goethe called the “eyes of the spirit,” indeed the “ears of the spirit,” develops from the soul, and a new world stands before him [the human being]. The great moment of awakening comes for him—that moment which, in the deeper wisdom of all peoples and across all the different historical epochs of various peoples, is described to us as the one through which a human being could become a messenger from another world.

[ 13 ] There have always been people whose spiritual powers were thus awakened. In various eras, they were called initiates. They were the ones who could describe what is reality in the other worlds—in the supersensible worlds—to those who might not have been there themselves. There have been initiates, awakened beings, in every age. They were the seekers, the explorers of the spirit.

[ 14 ] Now, one might say—and this objection will certainly be raised time and again—one might say: Yes, what good does it do other people if there are a few enlightened individuals who can speak of higher worlds and bring messages from the supernatural, if not everyone is able to glimpse into these worlds? — Well, when people within the Theosophical movement today speak of how this or that behaves in the spiritual worlds, some might well say: What good does it do me if others can see into the spiritual world but I cannot? I don’t care at all about these spiritual worlds; I would just have to believe what others tell me.

[ 15 ] This is not really a valid objection. This objection would only hold true, ladies and gentlemen, if suprasensory powers of the human soul were necessary for understanding and comprehending the higher worlds just as they are for research. To penetrate the higher world as a researcher requires that a person, slowly and gradually, with patience, energy, and perseverance, make himself an instrument for looking into the other world with the eyes of the spirit and listening to it with the ears of the spirit. But then, when the one who has thus looked into it comes and recounts the mysteries of the higher worlds, everyone is capable of recognizing—using ordinary human logic and common sense, provided they are open-minded enough and do not allow themselves to be misled by all manner of prejudices—that what is said about the higher world is true. This can be recognized and understood. It can, however, only be explored through the development of the human being himself into an instrument of spiritual research. For the human being, my esteemed audience, is not predisposed to error or doubt, but is predisposed to the truth. And when the initiates tell us about what takes place in the higher worlds, and a person listens and simply surrenders to his or her open soul, then he or she senses—long, long before he or she can look into the spiritual world for themselves—that what is communicated about these worlds is true.

[ 16 ] How, then, can a person transform their inner being—their soul—in such a way that these higher worlds become open to them for observation, direct exploration, and experience? If we wish to answer this question, we must delve a little deeper into more intimate concepts. For this is no less a question than this: How does a human being become perceptive of the spiritual world; how does he acquire those abilities that are often referred to as clairvoyant? Let us begin with what constitutes experience for the average person: the external world perceived by the eyes and the other external organs of perception. As you know, a person perceives an object in the ordinary sensory world by directing their sensory organs toward it, and once they have perceived it, they can retain a mental image of that object in their soul.

[ 17 ] You are looking at this bouquet of roses. As you focus your eyes on this bouquet, it becomes a perception for you. You experience its existence; you are together with it. You now turn away, and the image of this bouquet of roses remains with you as a mental image. It may be faint compared to the immediate perception, but the mental image remains with you, and you may carry this image for a long time until it, so to speak, fades from your memory. This is how human beings generally relate to their experiences of the external world. We can say: With regard to the external sensory world, a person experiences it in such a way that they first actually encounter the objects, and then the mental image of these external objects forms in their soul.

[ 18 ] It is precisely the opposite, my esteemed audience, that must come to pass with regard to the supersensible world and everything connected with the great goals of supersensible development, as well as with the dangers to which we will then refer. All of this ultimately boils down to the fact that, in order to perceive and see the supersensible world, a person must first develop a certain kind of inner life; he must first bring about certain changes in his soul, certain experiences that he would not otherwise have in everyday life. Then the great moment can come for him when—just as the outer, sensory light does for the man born blind who has undergone surgery—the spiritual, supersensible world begins to make an impression on him.

[ 19 ] It is not through outward turmoil or external events that the soul is transformed into such an instrument of higher spiritual experience, but quietly within itself, in the course of an intimate inner life; and many a person who outwardly held this or that position in life among people—of whom those around him knew nothing other than that he held this or that position—has led, or is leading, a second life within himself. This second life consists in the fact that he has transformed his soul into such a distinctive instrument of higher perception. Once a person has gradually reached this point, they must develop within themselves a certain level of insight that is entirely unknown to external science and external experience. Spiritual science states that all external knowledge is knowledge of objects. It is precisely the kind of knowledge that arises when a person encounters the objects of the world and forms concepts about them.

[ 20 ] The next higher form of knowledge—which we in spiritual science call “imaginative knowledge”—has nothing to do with fantasy, as we shall soon see; nor does it have anything to do with anything that could even remotely be described by the mere word “fantasy.” One must simply be clear that the path is the reverse of that in external experience, in external perception.

[ 21 ] There are two means that must be applied to the soul in an intimate way in order to advance that soul inwardly. These two means consist in a person not abandoning themselves to mere external life, but rather taking this inner life into their own hands through the soul’s inner powers, and initially directing this inner life through the inner powers of the will.

[ 22 ] To fully understand what this is all about, let’s consider the following: Let’s try to imagine how our inner lives would have unfolded differently if one or the other of us had been born—not in such-and-such a year of the nineteenth century and not in such-and-such a European city—but, say, a hundred years earlier and in a completely different city. Let’s imagine how the objects around us would affect us then, and how different ideas, sensations, and feelings would fill our souls. Think for a moment about how much of what fills your soul from morning to night can be attributed to external impressions of place and time, and for a moment, set aside from your soul everything that is not in some way connected to some external object in your surroundings or to some external event of your time. Ask yourself just how much would remain in the human soul—in the souls of many people—if they were to set aside the effects of their immediate surroundings. Everything that affects the soul from the outside—everything that results from our being born and developing at a specific time and in a specific place—can contribute nothing, absolutely nothing, to the soul’s inner unfolding, to its inner awakening.

[ 23 ] Entirely different ideas must enter the inner life of the soul—ideas that are independent of external impressions; and the most effective ideas are, first and foremost, those that are called imaginative or, perhaps, pictorial-symbolic. It has always been such ideas that teachers of supersensory abilities have imparted to their students, and by immersing themselves in these ideas, the students have developed their souls upward into the higher worlds.

[ 24 ] We do not wish to speak in general terms, but rather to make ourselves understood immediately through an example. Let us present such a symbol, an image, right here before your souls, my esteemed audience—an image that students have long used under the guidance of their spiritual science teachers to develop their souls to a higher level, an image that, when applied correctly, can truly work wonders. It is an image—there are countless others—but let us first use this one image to clarify how it affects the soul. The image is simple to describe, yet it has a magical effect on the soul.

[ 25 ] Imagine a black cross. This black cross is adorned at the top—where the arms intersect—with roses, with red roses. This is called the Rosicrucian symbol. When the student becomes, so to speak, blind and deaf to his external surroundings, when he can, for a while, however brief, to set aside everything that might make an impression on his eyes, ears, and other senses—if he is completely still and absorbed in himself, erasing even the memory of everyday experiences, and is now entirely filled with the single visual image of the Rosicrucian symbol—what enters the soul?

[ 26 ] Let us first answer this question. To do so, we must first explain a few things that can help us understand the profound symbolism of the Rose Cross. But what matters in inner development is not what I am about to say to clarify this symbol or emblem, but rather the inner deepening and contemplation of the soul involved in the process. Nevertheless, we must explain the symbol itself.

[ 27 ] I will try to present this Rosicrucian symbol to you in the form of a dialogue, just as a teacher would have spoken to his student in the realm of spiritual science. This conversation did not actually take place in the form in which I am recounting it, for the events it encompasses always unfolded over long periods of time; nevertheless, through such a retelling, we can gain a clear understanding of what happened.

[ 28 ] Imagine the teacher saying to the student: Take a look at a plant—a plant that is rooted in the ground, growing out of the ground from its roots, with green leaves. And now compare this plant to a human being. Look at the human being, as red blood flows through him in his present form. Look at the plant, as green sap—chlorophyll—flows through its vital organs, through its leaves. Compare the two. You will find the plant insensitive, immobile; you will find the human being mobile, sensitive. You find that human beings possess an inner life filled with pleasure and suffering, joy and pain. Human beings, you say, stand on a higher level of existence than plants. How did human beings reach this higher level of existence? How were they able to develop within themselves that which we might call self-consciousness, their “I”? The plant has not developed such self-consciousness, such an “I,” as it stands before us.

[ 29 ] Human beings—and I ask you, as I said, to imagine all of this as a conversation between a teacher of spiritual science and a student of spiritual science—were able to develop their higher consciousness up to the level of self-consciousness only by accepting something else as well. In this higher development, human beings accepted the passions, the drives, the instincts, and the desires. The plant does not have these. Although the plant does not have an inner life of thought and feeling, it is in its own way, in a certain sense, higher than human beings; it stands there chaste and pure, without sensual drives and desires, without instincts and passions. And as we imagine the green sap flowing through it, we say: This green sap is at the same time a symbol of the pure, chaste nature of the plant. And as the pure, chaste nature of the plant evolves upward toward the human being, a sense of self-awareness, an inner life, develops within the human being. But this pure chastity is simultaneously transformed into a life of desire. The human being has, in part, ascended; in part, descended.

[ 30 ] Now the teacher continues, saying to the student: But do not focus your gaze merely on the human being as he stands before you in the present; direct your gaze toward a distant, very distant future for humanity, toward a human goal! Humanity has before it the goal of striving higher and ever higher, step by step, and of overcoming what it had to endure in its higher development up to the present state—the drives, desires, and passions—so that one day, while retaining his consciousness and his self-aware nature, he may be pure and chaste within himself, just as the plant kingdom is at its level, in its own way. What, then, humanity is to achieve once more in the future is the overcoming and purification of what it has had to endure—to shed, so to speak, and remove from itself that which has caused it to fall below the level of the chaste plant being—and thereby to allow a higher nature to awaken within, a higher human being who today slumbers within it. Once again, we can turn to Goethe when we wish to draw attention to the deepest meaning of this human development. We can say—and with these words of Goethe we perfectly capture the meaning of what the spiritual science teacher said to his student—we can draw attention to the passage in Goethe’s *West-Eastern Divan*:

And as long as you don't have that,
This “Die and Be Born”!
You are but a gloomy guest
On this dark earth.

[ 31 ] “Die and Be Born”: What Does That Mean? “Die and Be Born” is a deeply symbolic phrase. It expresses, roughly speaking, what has just been stated in the Symbolum; it expresses that human beings, in order to reach a higher level and bring their lives to a higher flowering, wish to let their lower nature die away, so that a higher nature—as a flowering of the supersensible—may emerge.

[ 32 ] When we now look at the plant, it becomes, in a certain sense, a symbol for us—a clear symbol of this human development. We see how the rose plant develops into its red bloom. There, before our very eyes, so to speak, the green sap of the plant transforms as it shoots up into the bloom, becoming the red sap of the bloom. Let us now imagine symbolically—we are always in the dialogue between the teacher and the student—let us imagine in the human being those passions and drives that are bound to his red blood, so purified and cleansed that this red blood flows through the veins in chastity and purity, just as the red sap flows through the rose petal. Then we have in the rose itself the symbol of the higher human nature.

[ 33 ] This is expressed to us in the Rose Cross: the “Die and Become” in the lower human being—the shedding and detachment from what the human being has accepted in the black cross. The “Becoming” at a higher stage of the development of the innermost spiritual human nature also resembles the pure, chaste sap in the roses that adorn the Rose Cross. Thus, we have first explained this image intellectually from one perspective—much more could still be said about it.

[ 34 ] Now, of course, someone might say—and this would be a very facile objection—: “Yes, everything that is said here about the Rosicrucians does not correspond to scientific concepts!” — Certainly, my esteemed audience, it does not outwardly correspond to scientific concepts, but the Rosicrucian symbol is not intended to somehow express an external fact in accordance with the truth. What matters is not such a representation of the external world, but rather that the person who now—precisely because the Rose Cross does not correspond to any external reality—allows this cross to step before his or her soul, immerses himself or herself completely in this Rose Cross, and, as if beneath the threshold of consciousness, feels and senses everything we have expressed here, everything we have said. His soul becomes something different from what it was before. This is how such symbols—precisely because they do not correspond to any external reality—affect the human soul. They stimulate it toward what is called imaginative knowledge, that knowledge which represents the first step on the path to the higher worlds.

[ 35 ] I was only able to give you the Rosicrucian symbol as an example. We could cite a hundred other examples. The student must gradually familiarize himself with these symbols, just as someone who wants to learn to read must become acquainted with letters and characters. Only in this way can he attain a higher form of existence, and then one who has the patience and perseverance to immerse himself in the visual imagery of such symbols will have a special experience.

[ 36 ] In order to gain a sense of what kind of experience approaches human beings as an awakening, we must shed some light on human nature. This nature presents human beings with the great mysteries of existence, and it is precisely those things that they experience, so to speak, on a daily basis—and which can pose the deepest mysteries to them—that they pass by with indifference. These mysteries of existence can be summed up in about four words: waking and sleeping, life and death. These four words denote the greatest mysteries of life.

[ 37 ] Of course, it is not possible to discuss in detail in just one short hour how, in the spirit of spiritual science, one should think about the nature of the human being in relation to these four words. But we should mention what the person who is able to explore the spirit in the manner described today experiences in human beings and their changes in everyday life. Is not this everyday life, with its alternation between waking and sleeping, a mystery? We see how, from morning to evening, a person is filled with the impressions of the day, how all their senses are constantly taking in perceptions. We see how a person then processes these external impressions with their intellect. But we also see how, in the evening, when they fall asleep, all their impressions of the day—and all the experiences of the soul—sink away. We see how a person sinks, so to speak, into the sea of temporary forgetfulness—of pleasure and suffering, joy and pain, but also of all the everyday perceptions—the sounds, the warmth, and so on—that fill his soul from morning to evening; how he sees all his inner soul experiences fade away, and how, so to speak, unconsciousness surrounds him.

[ 38 ] Now, of course, it would be folly—a folly that is easy to see—to say that a person ceases to exist in the evening and is reborn anew in the morning. Rather, what is at issue is that human beings are complex beings—beings consisting not merely of those limbs, the eyes with which we see, the hands with which we can touch—but that, in addition to this physical body, we possess higher, superphysical organs of perception. When a person falls asleep in the evening—and let us now consider only the transition from wakefulness to dreamless sleep, leaving aside the intermediate state and the dream-filled state—when a person falls asleep, then one part of their being remains in bed, and another part—the part that cannot be seen with any external eye—withdraws; it is precisely the bearer of pleasure and suffering, pain and joy and passion—the bearer of sensory perceptions—that withdraws; it remains outside the physical human body throughout the night.

[ 39 ] In spiritual science, we call the part that leaves the physical body when we fall asleep the astral body. Do not be put off by this term; it has nothing to do with the stars; it is simply the supersensory part of human nature that withdraws in the evening and leaves the physical body to itself. The human being truly exists from the evening, when he falls asleep, until the morning, when he awakens. He sleeps, and the consciousness of which we shall now speak—which develops as clairvoyant consciousness upon awakening—draws itself out as a fine but spiritual figure of light, as this astral body, when the human being falls asleep. In terms of their spiritual nature, human beings are in the spiritual world that surrounds them.

[ 40 ] Why is it that when a person is in his astral body at night, surrounded by spiritual realities and beings, he does not see these realities and beings? For the same reason that a blind person does not see colors or light. Just imagine removing your eyes from your physical body! The world around you is dark and gloomy, colorless. Imagine removing your ears! The world is silent and soundless. And if you imagine removing all your senses, the world gradually becomes nothing. For human beings, only that which their organs are designed to perceive exists—nothing else! Now, suppose, for example, that the luminous cloud of the astral body withdraws from the physical body at night; then, in his astral body, the human being has no organs with which to perceive the spiritual world, and the result is that unconsciousness and darkness surround him.

[ 41 ] What happens, then, when a person does not live within the ordinary, normal realm, but instead allows what has just been described to take effect upon them through the Symbolum; when they devote themselves in their soul to such things; when, with calm and perseverance, they develop their soul in such a way that, while blind and deaf to their external surroundings, they are able to immerse themselves completely in their inner life—what is called a life of meditation and concentration? What happens then? This is something that clairvoyant consciousness can observe. An indeterminate astral body becomes a defined one. What takes place in the astral body is akin to gradually developing eyes within the physical body. In the manner described, spiritual eyes and ears are integrated into his astral body; an indeterminate cloud becomes a structured astral organism. The result of this is that the human being no longer merely experiences nothing, but rather that what occurs sensually for the physical body—when eyes and ears are incorporated into it—now occurs spiritually for the astral body.

[ 42 ] What a person achieves through patient meditation and concentration on such visual and other images—guided by the corresponding teachings of spiritual science—was called the process of purification in circles where people knew something about spiritual science. Why purification, or catharsis? For the reason that, from this point on in his development, a person was no longer dependent solely on external impressions—and thus had to remain unconscious and devoid of external impressions—but because he now, when he sets aside all impressions, as in sleep, still has a world around him. Because he can be purified and refined and yet still have experiences—spiritual experiences, to be precise. This is the first stage, which is attained through the means we have described.

[ 43 ] However, a second stage must also be added to spiritual development if a person is to become a true clairvoyant. We will be able to understand this stage—this higher stage—when we realize that even when we fall asleep, it is not merely the physical body that remains. Even in this physical body, which remains in bed in the evening as we fall asleep, there is something supraphysical, something supersensible. You will most easily come to realize this—this can only be mentioned today; as you delve deeper and deeper into theosophy, you will see that this is presented as proof despite all the objections of external science—you will best come to realize this when you compare the human being, as he stands before us, with any external physical object.

[ 44 ] What constitutes the human physical body contains within itself the same forces and substances as the external, lifeless, so-called mineral bodies. Yet there is a tremendous difference between a human being and a purely mineral entity. Consider a mineral entity that has a specific form. How can that form perish? By being shattered or destroyed from the outside. The form must be destroyed from the outside. The human physical body—and we are speaking now of human beings; otherwise we would have to say that this is true of every living being—the human body does indeed consist of physical forces and substances just as external nature does, but when these forces and substances are left to their own devices, what do they do? They dissolve the form; they disintegrate.

[ 45 ] What might be called the dissolution of the form of the physical human body occurs at the moment of death. When a person dies, what remains before our eyes—before our external senses—is a physical body; which now disintegrates into the physical and chemical substances it contains. But it is no longer a human body; it is a corpse; and while a stone retains its form and shape through the forces and substances acting within it, the human body, the moment it is left to its own physical and chemical substances, will decay and dissolve. Here spiritual science shows you that from the formation of this human body until its death, a ceaseless fighter lives within our body—as in every living being—a fighter who, throughout life, continually holds back the decay of the physical body. Just as we see the astral body float out in the evening when a person falls asleep—if we are able to observe what remains lying in the bed—so too do we see, at the moment of death, that which otherwise remains united with the physical human body even during sleep; we see it float out at the moment of death. This is how death differs from ordinary sleep. What we find to be a force that combats the decay of our body during life—which we call the etheric or life body, as the next-to-supernatural realm in relation to the physical—is what now reveals to us the difference between sleep and death.

[ 46 ] During sleep, not only the physical body but also the etheric or vital body remains behind, and from these two the astral body emerges, endowed with self-awareness. This happens every night. In the morning, when a person wakes up, their astral body re-enters the physical body and the etheric or life body and makes use of the organs—the eyes, the ears, and so on. When a person passes through the gate of death, only the physical body—now a corpse—remains behind, while the etheric and astral bodies ascend. This is the difference between sleep and death.

[ 47 ] Because the etheric body, with all that it has experienced in the earthly realm, stands out, this enables a person, after death, to pass into a spiritual world where they continue to live. However, we are not concerned here with the question of what a person carries over from this life into the next, but rather with matters related to the where and how of the spiritual researcher.

[ 48 ] The etheric body does not leave the physical body even during sleep, but remains with it. The astral body, on the other hand, floats out of the physical body during sleep, and when the person awakens, it re-enters the physical body. Now, at the very moment when the astral body, through the state of deep contemplation described to you—that meditative life in which it acquires, for example, imaginative insight through symbolic and other visions—at the very moment when the astral body receives its spiritual ears, eyes, and so on, it brings these back into the etheric body in the morning, and the result is that in the morning a person does not wake up with the feeling: “You were unconscious”—but rather, upon waking, says: “I was in a spiritual world among spiritual things and beings; I was in my true home, in that world from which my soul and spirit originate, just as my physical body originates from the physical world.”

[ 49 ] The second, higher stage of clairvoyant life contributes to the astral body illuminating the etheric body with what it develops within itself at night under the influence of inner life. This is called enlightenment. These are the first two stages of the clairvoyant life.

[ 50 ] First comes the realization that a person does not awaken from the sea of unconsciousness, but with the memory that he was among spiritual beings during the night. He knows that a spiritual world surrounded him; and then he progresses further and further, so that even during the day, in his physical body, he can see around him what is all around us—that which fills space just as much as the physical world—and he can perceive the spiritual world around him, between and through physical things. Thus, a person does not find the spirit through external perception, but rather by awakening his soul through precisely defined methods and means—which could only be explained today by way of an example—thereby raising the powers and abilities slumbering within him to a higher level, finding the spirit within himself, and thus being able to perceive the spiritual world in the spirit he has awakened within himself.

[ 51 ] Thus, through the development of a different, new consciousness, through purification, and through enlightenment, the human being ascends into the spiritual world. And yet again, imagination—this immersion in images—is merely a preparation for the perceptions of the actual spiritual world. For here we are faced with an important fact of inner experience. Someone might raise the question: Yes, but what a person initially has in their inner life—these are all just unreal ideas, just images, just symbols. — Certainly, that is what they are at first. But if a person processes these symbols in the right way in his life, then the moment comes when he can say to himself: Now, now I have reached the point where I no longer have merely my own imaginings, but now—because I have made something definite out of my life—an objective world flows toward me.

[ 52 ] The ability to distinguish how long one lives in mere ideas, and when one arrives at the spiritual facts and spiritual entities that come from outside—this ability to distinguish can only be taught by experience itself, by observation. Just as you can distinguish, in sensory life, between mere imagination, perception, and reality, so too comes the moment when, through experience, you can distinguish the inner life of mere imagination from external [supersensory] reality.

[ 53 ] One might, of course, say: In the physical world, the existence of real things can be proven. — No, it can only be experienced; it is never proven through experience. Mere representation in the sensory world must be clearly distinguished from perception, and if someone were to claim—as a flawed philosophy does—that our world consists solely of representations, let them consider the difference between the representation of a red-hot piece of steel and the perception of a red-hot piece of steel. They can clearly grasp the difference that exists there. Imagine a glowing piece of steel, and try to establish such clear, accurate concepts about it. The philosophical prejudice that the world is our conception—this cannot be proven, but only the reality of things can be experienced.

[ 54 ] Likewise, just as things outside of us are in reality and become our perceptions when we encounter them, so too does that inner, intimate life—which, through meditation and concentration, is manifested in those images and in other perceptions that, for the sake of brevity, cannot naturally be described here today but have been clarified only through the example of the Rose Cross— so too, when a person practices this intimate life, he can see the time approaching when he says: I no longer have a Rose Cross before me, but I have reached the moment when spiritual beings approach me—beings who are just as real as the external, sensory things when I form mental images of them. — This is experienced, and what he does is a preparation. Such, indeed, is the course of the soul’s life during awakening.

[ 55 ] When ascending into the spiritual world, the opposite of what happens in external reality occurs. In external reality, we first have objects and experiences; then we form our concepts. In the higher, spiritual, supersensory world, we must first transform our life of imagination and wait patiently until we are able to allow the truth—the spiritual, indeed the supersensory reality—to take effect upon our soul. And it will depend entirely on whether, up to this point, a person has practiced a corresponding character development—one that proceeds in parallel with meditation and concentration—and has maintained such confidence and steadfastness that, at the decisive moment, they can distinguish between fantasy, hallucination, and reality. Ultimately, only life itself can provide this distinction. Just as a fool is one who mistakes his idea of a rose for a real rose, so too can a person—in the spiritual realm, and even more easily, of course—experience hallucinations and illusions if he does not maintain inner certainty up to the decisive moment. But if he preserves his inner strength and certainty so that he does not waver for a single moment, and says to himself: “Only when something confronts me, and reality meets me in my prepared soul, do I speak of spiritual reality; I regard everything else merely as preparation”—only then will he be able, at the decisive moment, to distinguish spiritual reality from delusions just as surely as the outer human being can distinguish between imagination and reality.

[ 56 ] So, my esteemed audience, the question we should be considering today is: Where and how can one find the spirit? One cannot find the spirit by constructing some external instrument, but rather by transforming oneself into an instrument for perceiving the spiritual world. And so it is true that the inner powers of the soul are capable of development; that, to speak again in Goethe’s terms, spiritual ears can develop from this soul, just as sensory ears and eyes develop from the body.

[ 57 ] Human beings thus discover the higher world through their own higher development. Even if, for the time being, only a few people today are able to become spiritual instruments for the exploration of the spiritual world, these few can nevertheless recount the facts of the spiritual world; and since the human soul is not predisposed to delusion and error but to truth, the message from the spiritual world can be received—with an open mind—in such a way that a person initially gains a glimpse of the truth of the spiritual world. Added to this is the hope that, if, under appropriate guidance, one applies these methods to oneself, one may gradually, over the course of a long life of self-denial, become such an instrument of spiritual perception. The best preparation, to begin with, is to take in and understand, with pure, unbiased thinking and sound reason, what the spiritual researcher is able to perceive in the spiritual world.

[ 58 ] Then, through such intellectual preparation alone, a sense of and hope for a higher experience will arise, and the individual will intuitively grasp that which unravels the riddles of the higher worlds and reveals the mysteries behind them. And they will sense and experience the truth of Goethe’s words—that he was more deeply immersed in these spiritual worlds and mysteries than is commonly believed—which Goethe also expresses in his life’s work, *Faust*, at the passage where he says that it is the sage who speaks. Indeed, it is precisely by immersing oneself in these realities that everyone can find within themselves the confirmation of the words of this wise man, Goethe, for spiritual science offers insights into the spiritual world and awakens the hope that one might one day pass through the gate that initially separates human beings from these worlds. And so it comes true: as what is today called theosophy or spiritual science becomes more deeply rooted in humanity, what Goethe has the sage say in *Faust* comes true:

The spirit world is not closed off;
Your mind is closed, your heart is dead!
Come, bathe, disciple, undaunted
Your earthly breast in the morning glow!